Oh, frame me in thy love, as I The landscape in the branches low; That none beneath the bending sky Our sylvan secret know. For 'tis of life the mystery That, wheresoe'er its fibres run, In time or in eternity, The many shape the one. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYPOCRISY by SAMUEL BUTLER (1612-1680) TO THE REPUBLIC by JAMES GALVIN THE PILLAR OF FAME by ROBERT HERRICK A CONCEPTION by DAISY MAUD BELLIS AURORA LEIGH: BOOK 3 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING GOD'S DREAM by WILLIAM NORRIS BURR |